


The Monster Tamer

by WrestleCrazyGamer



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrestleCrazyGamer/pseuds/WrestleCrazyGamer
Summary: The world has continued to evolve except for Kaer Morhen, a throwback to an archaic time period. Geralt of Rivia has gone from hero to living myth to living legend, hunting monsters for coin despite how old he was now. Some truly believe that a Witcher will not die unless they are killed at another's hands. That will be put to the test as a baby is left on the steps of Kaer Morhen possessing a unique power... a power that has a particular set of individuals interested in them. Geralt is too damn old for this, but he'll have to persevere anyway.





	1. The Tamer's Mark

**Author's Note:**

> *It's never stated what the natural lifespan of a Witcher is, so using that ambiguity to make the time that's passed work.  
*Using AU mostly to cover my ass in case I step on a continuity branch from the novels or games.

[Year 2000 - Kaer Morhen]

A vicious storm was blowing through the area at Kaer Morhen as Geralt flipped through a modern book on monsters. Thunder boomed as the unmistakable sound of thuds on the front gates caught his ear. Placing a bookmark in the book, he set it down to go investigate. Putting on a jacket, he braved the deluge outside to check the gate. Upon opening the door, he spotted a somewhat damaged basket lying there on the step. He looked around with his Witcher Senses spotting a blood trail in the dark, and reluctantly took the basket inside. He gently set the basket near the fireplace and then put on his armor. Strapping his swords to his back, he set out to follow the blood trail.

The trail took him to where he eyed a strange bipedal monster half made of flesh, half made of black smoke. It had its back turned devouring what remained of a young woman. The beast heard Geralt take a step and turned to face the witcher letting out a deep bellow, showing blood-soaked teeth. When it charged Geralt side stepped it delivering a strong strike to its side making it howl in pain. Despite the monster’s towering size, its speed made it easy for Geralt to eventually cut it down. Before he could get a better look at it though, the corpse turned to ash that the rain quickly washed away.

“Now to see if I can identify the victim.” Geralt nodded, moving to the corpse.

Despite his best efforts, Geralt was unable to even determine if she was human or elf. Her face was half-mutilated as well, her jaw torn clean off. A vast majority of her organs had been devoured by the beast. One of her legs was bent unnaturally indicating a severe leg injury that likely sealed her fate. Not having brought a shovel with him, he lifted the corpse and carried it back to Kaer Morhen to give it a proper burial. Giving a nod to the grave after placing a headstone, Geralt returned inside. There he saw Yennefer holding the basket, curious of its contents.

“That was on our doorstep.” Geralt spoke to her.

“Well, let us see what is inside then.” she nodded, slowly opening the lid to reveal a slumbering baby.

“Of course it’s a baby…” Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge between his eyes.

“There’s a letter. Oh, and it looks like the mother knew exactly where she was bringing her child.” Yen smirked, handing Geralt a white envelope with a red wax seal on it.

Geralt examined it and found “To Geralt of Rivia” on the back. With a deep sigh, he broke the seal and pulled out a letter. The handwriting was clean and the parchment itself smelled of various berries.

_ “To Geralt of Rivia, I write this letter to ask that you find it in your heart to care for my son as I will soon be gone. I know this is selfish of me to ask, but my boy possesses a gift that others would seek to use for their own ends. I would ask that it be concealed and forgotten, but that is wishful thinking. There is naught that I can do, for he will naturally be drawn to the creatures you hunt. His gift shall do what none believe can be done, all he must do is touch one with his palm. From his gift he shall develop powers all his own. As such I have given him the name of a fallen one, Lucifar. -His Loving Mother, Aelia Fromarl the Bloody.” _

“The huntress Aelia? She’s a long way from home.” Yennefer stated, peeking over Geralt’s shoulder.

“It’s tragic that a woman like her would go out this way.” Geralt huffed.

“Well, these are certainly unique markings.” she spoke, examining the baby’s palms.

Geralt knelt down to get a look and saw that Lucifar’s palms were pitch black with white scar-like carvings in the center. It formed a symbol that he didn’t recognize. Yen seemed just as fuddled by them as well.

“His gift shall do what none believe can be done, hmm? Wonder what that is exactly.” Geralt narrowed his eyes, gazing at the sleeping baby.

“Well, shall we introduce the newest member of the family to everyone?” Yen smiled at him.

“I didn’t say I’d take him in yet.” Geralt stated defiantly.

“You are going to toss an orphaned baby out into a storm to fend for itself? That will come back to haunt you and you know it, Geralt.” she smirked, gently taking Lucifar into her arms.

“Literally, depending on how he dies…” he grumbled, standing up.

“It’s settled.” Yen giggled.

“Nothing is… ugh, fine. Everyone pitches in though.” Geralt stated.

“Of course, ‘Daddy Geralt’.” she snickered, sticking out her tongue.

“Don’t call me that…” he groaned, massaging his temples.

Come morning, Lucifar was introduced to the residents of Kaer Morhen properly. Yennefer made it very clear that Geralt was his new father, to the witcher’s dismay. So began Lucifar’s infancy at the castle.

[Year 2004] 

The sun was high in the sky as Geralt returned to Kaer Morhen, but he brought with him a cart bearing a cage. Bound by thick chains and ropes inside of the cage was a young Griffin, struggling in its binds viciously. Vesemir approached him as he dismounted his horse.

“Quite the dangerous pet you’ve brought home.” Vesemir chuckled.

“I brought it back because Yen asked me to. She thinks that it’s time we see if Lucifar’s gift is for real.” Geralt retorted, unamused by the remark.

“Oh, speaking of the lad, he made a mess of the library earlier. Felt he didn’t need to ask for help to reach the top shelf and made the whole thing come falling down on himself.” the old witcher laughed.

“Sounds like him alright. Didn’t hurt himself did he?” he sighed.

“He’ll live, but I somehow doubt he’ll wise up from it. He didn’t wise up from the stable incident, after all.” Vesemir replied.

“Dad! Welcome home!” a young voice called.

Lucifar, now a young child with wavy caramel brown hair, then appeared from the main building. He was dressed in leather shoes, pants woven from bear hide, and a cotton short-sleeved shirt dyed red. The lad charged quickly to hug Geralt’s waist.

“I was only gone for three days.” Geralt chuckled, patting his head.

“What’s that?” Lucifar gasped, gazing at the cage.

“That’s a Griffin. I caught it for an experiment.” he answered.

“Can I touch it?!” he gasped, wonder filling his eyes.

“Not yet, kiddo. Have a bit of patience.” Geralt told him.

“Yet means I can touch it soon right?” he beamed.

“Hold your horses, lad, he only just returned.” Vesemir laughed.

“Let’s get this beast to Yen.” Geralt smiled.

Geralt, Vesemir, and a few helping hands then carried the cage up to where Yen had set up a study. She was busy examining a drawn depiction of Lucifar’s mark as they set it down on a designated X in the center of the room. Satisfied, all but Geralt, Lucifar, and Vesemir cleared the room.

“One griffin, as requested.” Geralt told the sorceress, who put her hand up to be quiet.

“It’s so pretty…” Lucifar giggled, staring at the griffin.

“I believe that I’ve cracked what his gift is. If I’ve read these tomes right, his mark is a chimaera of archaic black magic, current elven magic, and a curse of some sort. The curse aspect is why the flesh around the mark is black. The mark being on both hands can’t be a coincidence either. Someone deliberately gave him these marks, or perhaps it’d be more accurate to say that someone  _ cursed _ him with it before he was even born.” Yennefer explained to them.

“Okay. So what does it do?” Geralt asked.

“The mark is completely original, comprised of the strokes for three other markings. A spell for binding, a spell for form alteration, and a curse that robs the subject of free will. Put them together and you either get a pointless scribble…”

“Or a new spell altogether.” Vesemir stated.

“Exactly. If my hypothesis about the combined usage of these three spells is correct… he should be able to, in a word, ‘tame’ monsters.” she continued, opening the door to the cage so she can haul the griffin out.

“So, how does it work? Does it work only on monsters?” Geralt questioned her.

“The way it is carved only monsters should be affected by it, yes, but there is only one way to find out for sure.” Yen smiled, looking to the lad.

“Fair enough. Lucifar, remember how I said you could touch it later? Well now you can touch it.” Geralt told him, kneeling down to give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

“I won’t get in trouble?” Lucifar asked him.

“You won’t get in trouble. Go wild, kid.” he nodded.

Lucifar then approached then griffin and knelt down by it. It jerked making him jump a bit, but Yen assured him that the bindings were secure and there was nothing to fear. He then began to run his fingers through the griffin’s mane making it growl. It was soft and quite warm despite its shaggy appearance. Its body’s fur coat was smooth as well. Lucifar then rested his ear against its body to hear it breathing, and then he placed his palms on its body causing it to begin glowing. The glow soon consumed the griffin and began to shrink it down. Once the glow faded a small lantern-like cage remained where the griffin was once lying down. Complete and total silence took the room as they all stared at the item. Lucifar then lay down on his stomach peering in through the slotted door, trying to see inside.

“Is it in there…?” Vesemir questioned, daring to step closer.

“I’ve got a Pocket Griffin…” Lucifar spoke, eyes full of childish joy.

“A what?” Geralt questioned as the boy lifted the cage facing the door toward them.

“Pocket Griffin!” he cheered, opening the door.

To their shock the griffin then emerged from the small cage in a blast of blue light. Its cat body had gained a turquoise coloring, its mane turned crimson, and its feathers a sapphire blue. Colors like this had never been seen on a griffin before. It glared at the witchers and the sorceress before turning to look at Lucifar. Geralt slowly reached for his sword when it suddenly bumped its head against Lucifar's cheek, starting to lick him making the boy giggle.

“That tickles!” he laughed, gently scratching under its chin making it pur.

“How about that? I thought that at my age nothing would surprise me anymore, but it looks like I was wrong, as usual.” Vesemir huffed with amusement.

“It is the 20th Century. The world around Kaer Morhen has changed immensely, despite monsters still being a menace. I think that his power can be used to begin a strange coexistence.” Yen smiled, starting to pet the griffin herself.

“That’s quite a power. Will it do whatever you tell it to?” Geralt asked him.

“Roll over.” Lucifar ordered, to their amazement the griffin readily obeyed.

“Is it a dog now?” Vesemir chuckled.

“I think it’s more that the griffin is compelled to ask how high when he says to jump.” Geralt spoke with a calculating gaze at the beast.

“Speak.” Lucifar ordered, and the griffin startled him into falling on his bum with a loud screech.

“Behold, the majestic Pocket Griffin.” Yennefer snickered, helping him up.

“Now we know that he can, in fact, tame monsters. We should keep this on the down low until we know for sure he can tame any monster he comes across. I’ll fetch some more test monsters in the meantime.” Geralt suggested.

“I don’t know, Geralt. Perhaps we should work on his taming skills instead. If he is indeed the only Monster Tamer in the world, then he should be the best at his craft there ever will be.” Yen shook her head.

“I agree. We should begin educating him on the monsters of the world.” Vesemir nodded.

“He won’t learn anything sitting through your lectures, no offense.” Geralt chuckled.

“So you’re saying that you could do a better job then?” Yen smirked, making Geralt whirl around at the accusation.

“Yes, I’d love to see you get him to sit still long enough for a lesson.” Vesemir chuckled.

“Hold on… that isn’t what I’m saying.” Geralt told them, sweating a bit.

“What are you saying then, hmm? You think it’s so easy to lecture a kid, then I agree with Yennefer. I would love to see you try it.” Vesemir challenged him.

“I see you two won’t let me out of this.” Geralt sighed, shaking his head.

“Think of it as bonding time with your son. You’re almost always out hunting monsters these days.” Yennefer snickered.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Geralt told them, crossing his arms.

The next morning Geralt went to Lucifar’s room to get him up, but found his bed completely empty. He looked around the immediate area for signs of him, but couldn’t find a trace even with his Witcher Senses. Returning to Lucifar’s room, he then noticed the window was open. Approaching it, he spotted his evidence - sapphire feathers. Rushing outside he saw several of the castle’s residents staring in awe at something. Using his hands as shields from the morning sun, he saw something flying in the sky.

“I’m coming in for landing! Everybody move!” a familiar voice cried.

Geralt rolled to the side as whatever was flying came barreling toward the ground. When the dust cleared, he saw the flying object was Lucifar riding the back of his griffin. Both were covered in hay and leaves for some reason. Lucifar looked bewildered for a moment, then began to laugh when his griffin shook to get the leaves and sticks out of its mane making him plop onto the ground.

“You’re up early.” Geralt addressed the boy, his arms crossed as he tapped his foot.

“Morning dad.” he beamed, seemingly unaware Geralt wasn’t happy he vanished without a word.

“Cut him a bit of slack, Geralt. You didn’t have to fuss with making him get up.” Vesemir chuckled.

“True, but now he’s a mess. Where did you go that resulted in your current state?” Geralt interrogated him.

“We wanted to get a better look at a lake, and we were so busy spooking the fish we didn’t see the hay bale until it was too late. The farmer was mad, but then he got spooked for some reason telling Phoebe to unhand me.” Lucifar answered.

“That’d be because Phoebe is a griffin. Wait a minute... Phoebe? You named it?” Geralt questioned.

“Uh-huh.” he nodded, beaming happily as he got to his feet.

“Don’t remember telling you its gender. Did you check before naming it?” Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“I looked when I gave her a bath last night. Phoebe’s a girl.” he replied.

“Okay, so after you and Phoebe hit the hay bale how did you get leaves all over yourselves?” Geralt continued his interrogation.

“We saw some harpies and you always tell me to hide because they can easily take off with me, so we ducked through a canopy. Didn’t expect a canopy to be so thick though…” he answered.

“Well, at least you’re home safe and sound. Just don’t go flying without my permission from now on, or at least have an adult riding with you. Now get your butt into a bath, you’ve got lessons to get to.” Geralt ordered, an amused smirk on his face.

All while this was happening, the world had begun to change. At the southern ocean’s depths, the earth split asunder emitting a purple light as sinister laughter played out...


	2. The World Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifar's first outing from Kaer Morhen, that allows him to actually interact with the outside world.

[Year 2008 - Early Spring]

Birds chirped as Geralt strapped a saddle to his horse. Vesemir then led a young mare to the witcher’s side.

“What’s with the mare?” Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t forget your promise to Lucifar did you? You said that when spring comes you would take him with you to see what’s outside Kaer Morhen. This horse is his. It’s high time he put what we taught him of horseback riding to use as it is.” Vesemir replied.

“Right…” Geralt sighed.

“I know you’re concerned about taking him, but I remember what his mother’s letter said clearly. We can’t stop him from going near monsters, we can only prepare him to deal with them.” Vesemir smiled, giving him a slight nudge.

“What of people? How will they react to his power? Will he live with the same persecution we do as freaks of nature?” Geralt asked him.

“Well. He’s got Phoebe with him. He can get out of any compromising position that way.” Vesemir assured him.

“Speaking of… if he’s coming, why isn’t he here yet?” Geralt asked, looking around.

“He’s up, Yen wanted to see him is all. Probably a sappy ‘you be safe out there’ speech while she bogs him down with all kinds of potions.” Vesemir joked.

“Something wrong with wanting our boy to be safe on his first real outing?” Yen’s voice spoke, almost making the old witcher leave his skin.

The two looked to the main building and saw Yennefer approaching. Lucifar was walking behind her dressed in black boots, black denim pants, a thick hide short-sleeved hoodie with the hood up, and white gloves over his hands. Dangling from the left side of his belt was Phoebe’s cage. Over his shoulder was a large travel satchel made of tanned hide.

“Going for a modern look, eh kiddo?” Vesemir smirked.

“You know how kids are, Vesemir. I don’t want him to look like he’s from another time period.” Yen told him.

“I’m going to assume you’ve done something to his garments then.” Geralt smiled.

“Naturally. Not even the mightiest steel or the fastest bullet is getting through this set of clothes.” Yen nodded.

“Well, let’s get going then.” Geralt spoke, mounting his horse.

Lucifar jogged over and after a few minutes of trying managed to get himself into the saddle. The two then began their ride to the world beyond the Path. It was slow at first, as Lucifar hadn’t really trained much with a horse as Phoebe was his preferred mode of travel causing him to fuss with making the mare obey him. At the same time he couldn’t just ride a griffin into town - it’d cause a panic. 

Despite the bitter cold, Lucifar seemed to be enjoying the change in scenery. When asked he described it as two worlds, since he’s technically seen the landscape from the air before. He’d even seen the nearby town before, but never been there personally as he wasn’t allowed. It was going to be a treat, since now he was going to see what the town is like. Entering town he read the sign “Birchmouth” in passing. It was already midday as they stopped at a notice board.

“Hmm… only two contracts. I guess that means the monsters are leaving Birchmouth alone for now.” Geralt observed.

“Dad, what’s a ‘Stonewalker’? The books and lessons didn’t cover it.” Lucifar asked.

“They’re a mutation of troll that showed up around 300 years ago. They have the stony hide of a troll, but have lost any resemblance to humans in favor of a beastly boar shape. They’re somehow dumber than normal trolls too, forgetting what subtle means by charging headlong into towns and villages.” he answered.

“Harpies are what the other contract is after.” Lucifar stated.

“Both posted by the mayor. Come on, let’s get the details from the man himself.” Geralt ordered, dismounting his horse to lead it by the reins.

Lucifar dismounted as well, though he had a bit of trouble getting his mare to follow him. Soon they arrived at the mayor’s residence near the center of town where Geralt showed Lucifar how to securely tie a horse’s reins to a post.

“Stay here and don’t cause any trouble. I’ll be back soon.” Geralt ordered before knocking on the door, making a maid answer.

“Geralt of Rivia? Is it spring already?” the maid asked him.

“Yes. I’ve come in regards to the contracts on the notice board.” Geralt replied.

“Come in, please, I’ll inform the mayor right away that you’re here.” she insisted.

Lucifar waited for Geralt for about two minutes before curiosity began to overtake him. He wanted to see the town and what it had to offer so badly that he blanked on what he was told. Looking around made his heart pound with excitement. His exploration soon took him to a shop with a sign reading “Huxley x Moxie Anvil & Gunsmith”. The windows showed display cases with swords, axes, and spears in some and pistols to rifles in others. He couldn’t contain himself and had to see inside.

The shop smelled of gunpowder and smelted steel, yet there was a hint of lavender and cinnamon. He could hear the flames of the forge and pounding of steel in the back. The front of the store had shelves and racks full of weapons, all engraved with either Huxley or Moxie. Near the middle of the store he found horse armor along with specially made saddles and blinders.

“Welcome! Can I interest you in-oh… just a kid.” a woman’s voice spoke, making him jump a little turning to look at the counter.

Standing there was a tall, pale, shapely woman bearing greying chocolate brown hair. She was dressed in black knee boots, dark brown form-fitting pants, a white long-sleeved blouse, a thick apron, and black gloves.

“H-Hi.” he waved nervously.

“Don’t recognize you… new in town?” she asked him.

“Yeah. First time… in any town, actually.” he answered, standing straight.

“Well, this store’s meant for adults, kiddo. No one under the age of seventeen can buy from this shop without a letter of consent from the mayor.” she told him.

“Oh right, introductions, Vesemir said that’s important… I’m Lucifar.” he smiled, trying to be friendly.

“Jenny P. Moxie, Gunsmith. Loverboy back in the forge is Todd Huxley, the only blacksmith left in town after the last attack. Only guy in town with the balls to partner with a woman, too.” she introduced herself and her unseen partner.

“Is it weird to partner with a woman?” Lucifar titled his head.

“You could say Birchmouth is real old fashioned when it comes to workplace roles, which is rich since the mayor specifically asked  _ me _ to come to town. Here the men do the work while the women are expected to do chores and raise the kiddies - that sort of thing. Can’t expect everywhere to modernize overnight, but boy is it annoying at times.” she explained.

“So, what’s a ‘gun’?” Lucifar asked, making her get a bewildered look.

“What? No gunsmiths where you’re from?” she raised an eyebrow, and he shook his head.

“No ma’am.”

“Well, there are two types of guns. You’ve got gunpowder guns that use a variety of ammunition, and then you have gemstone guns that only certain people can use. If you’ve seen someone use a bow or crossbow, imagine the arrow moving faster than the eye can see with way more range.” she explained.

“What kind of people can use gemstone guns?” he asked, intrigued by the subject.

“People who can use magic, for one. To anyone else it may as well be a paperweight. They’re a sorcerer’s best friend when you don’t have the time to get a spell off, and you don’t gotta spend crowns on bullets neither. Of course, you can’t just keep firing without caution. The gemstone used to channel the magic bullets gets hot as you fire, and if it gets too hot it could blow up in your hands. Seen lots of people hospitalized because of that mistake. Most gemstones can only take three to six shots back to back before they gotta cool off for at least ten seconds.” she explained in detail.

“Guns are so cool…” Lucifar swooned, looking at the gun case next to him.

“Cool, but deadly. You can’t exactly ignore a gunshot wound.” Jenny shrugged.

Their chat was interrupted by screams outside. Lucifar rushed out and saw a large hulking beast covered in stone slamming into buildings and anything else it comes across. It began to charge down the road as a girl his age with long red hair dressed in a frilly red dress tripped twisting her ankle. The beast spotted her and let out a loud roar, charging full tilt at her. Everything began to slow down as Lucifar observed the scene.

“ _ What do I do? What do I do?! She’ll die if she doesn’t move! _ ”

“ ** _Why are you just standing there? You can stop that beast easy._ ** ”

“ _ I can…? It’s three times my size… _ ”

“ ** _You have a gift. Remember when you got Phoebe? You just need to touch it with your bare palm… and you’ll save that girls’ life._ ** ”

“ _ My gift… dad said to be careful who sees it… but I don’t have a choice right now. _ ”

“ ** _That’s more like it…_ ** ”

Lucifar then charged forward as everything began returning to normal speed. He pulled off his right glove as he stood in front of the fallen girl. Now that he was in its way he had no choice - it was this or get trampled. As it came closer he thrust his palm out, closing his eyes. He felt something crash into his palm as if something were tossed, but he felt no ramming speed animal coming at him. He dared open one eye, and dangling on his thumb was a monster cage the same size and shape as Phoebe’s. His next thought was checking on the girl.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling down by her.

“I most certainly am not okay! Despite that, I can say that I am alive… so thank you, whoever you are.” she replied, sitting up to get a look at her ankle.

“Lucifar.” Geralt’s voice spoke behind the boy, making him go a bit pale.

“...and I can say that I’m in trouble.” Lucifar groaned, slowly turning to look at the witcher behind him to see a stern look and his arms crossed.

“Mayor’s house. Now.” Geralt ordered, and the boy didn’t miss a beat running as fast as he could, taking the cage with him.

At the mayor’s house, Lucifar was sitting on a bench as Geralt talked with the mayor in the other room. He didn’t say a word or even move an inch, fearing what punishment was already coming his way. Geralt then exited the room with a chubby gentleman with a very bushy grey mustache dressed in a suit and hat behind him.

“Lad, is it true? The Stonewalker is in that little cage?” the chubby man asked Lucifar, who simply nodded remaining silent.

“Why don’t we go outside and show the gentleman?” Geralt suggested.

Lucifar walked quickly despite looking to the ground into the yard. He then faced toward where the yard was widest before opening the cage. The Stonewalker then emerged letting out a beastly howl. Just as Phoebe’s colors had changed upon being tamed, the Stonewalker’s hide had gained hints of blue with moss in some spots. The beast slowly turned around to face Lucifar and sniffed his face before giving him a lick. A crowd of curious people gathered after hearing the roar and were astounded by its appearance.

“Amazing… to think that the creature that caused so much property damage is now docile and even friendly towards a child.” the mayor spoke, eyes wide with amazement.

“Any monster that he touches with his bare hand can be tamed. Drowners, Ghouls, Griffins, and as you can see even Stonewalkers become his friends at a touch.” Geralt told him.

“Has the boy tamed a griffin?” the mayor asked, gazing expectantly at Lucifar.

“Show him.” Geralt nodded.

“Come on out Phoebe.” Lucifar spoke, opening the cage to let her out making the mayor jump back in disbelief.

“Why, what a stupendous gift he has! Does he need to feed them?!” the mayor asked.

“We’re not sure why, but they lose the need to be fed after being tamed. They will eat if you feed them, but it seems to have become optional.” Geralt answered.

“My lad, I will buy the Stonewalker off of you for 3,000 crowns, nay 5,000! If it is truly obedient imagine how it could defend the town!” the mayor exclaimed, making Lucifar jump a little.

“Quite the impressive offer.” Geralt mused.

“ ** _Master… if may… want repent for trouble caused…_ ** ” a silent voice whispered to Lucifar, making him look at the Stonewalker to find it looking at him.

“The Stonewalker says they wanna repent for the trouble they caused, so I’ll accept your offer.” Lucifar nodded.

“Splendid! Ah yes, the proper transaction paperwork. My secretary will not let me hear the end of it if I forget to properly document it.” the mayor laughed heartily.

“Just out of curiosity, what would you do with 5,000 crowns?” Geralt asked him, a slight smirk on his face.

“I dunno…” Lucifar replied, afraid that Geralt was still angry with him.

“Well, let’s get the paperwork over with. Hope you’ve been practicing your signature.” Geralt told him, nodding to the door.

Lucifar put the Stonewalker back into its cage wowing the crowd before entering the mayor’s house again. His signature on the document was sloppy, but at least legible. Despite the mayor’s joy, Lucifar still sunk in the chair as he felt his punishment coming at any time now.

“Right, I need to get my blades sharpened. Any places in town that you’d recommend?” Geralt asked the mayor.

“Huxley x Moxie is the best place in town, if I’m brutally honest. Give them this letter of recommendation and they’ll give you the Peacekeeper Discount.” the mayor replied, quickly writing up a letter to hand to the witcher.

“Thanks. I’ll get right on your harpy problem once my gear’s up to snuff.” Geralt nodded as Lucifar put his bag of crowns in his satchel.

The two left the mayor’s house and then Geralt knelt down to Lucifar, making him flinch. He was going to get scolded big time, he knew it. He couldn’t help closing his eyes from the anticipation. A big hit never came, but instead Geralt flicked his forehead.

“Stop looking so glum, hmm? You saved that girl. You should be proud of yourself.” Geralt smiled sympathetically, patting his shoulder.

“I disobeyed you and went off on my own though…” Lucifar whimpered, rubbing the red spot where he was flicked.

“Yeah, you almost gave me a heart attack by suddenly getting in the way of a stampeding monster, but if you hadn’t then that girl would be dead. I was scared shitless that I was about to lose you. There was no way that I was going to make it in time. I was upset, but at the same time relieved that it turned out okay. Just let me know if you’re going to explore next time, okay?” Geralt explained to him.

“Okay.” Lucifar nodded.

“Bring it in. It’s behind us, okay?” Geralt smiled, hugging him.

“There you are!”

The two looked to the yard entrance and standing there with her foot in a cast, supporting herself with crutches, was the girl Lucifar saved. Only instead of looking pleased, she looked quite cross. Fretting about her unladylike demeanor from behind was an elderly butler dressed in a double-breasted uniform.

“You again.” Lucifar stated, looking confused.

“Where do you get off leaving a lady lying in the dirt after saving her?! Shouldn’t you have carried me to a doctor yourself?! Well?!” the girl cried, moving closer to get in Lucifar’s face, making the terrified boy lean back as she leaned in.

“Guess that apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…” Geralt chuckled.

“S-Sorry? Dad and I had business with the mayor, so…”

“So?! My uncle could stand to wait while his injured niece is tended to!” she barked, making Lucifar take a step back almost falling over.

“Uncle…?” Lucifar questioned.

“Ah, pardon my lady’s late introduction. Princess Lunanestra Vigaldi Von Ridgelburg IV of the Ridgelburg Empire, Tertiary Heir to the Throne.” the butler introduced her.

“What’s ‘tertiary’ mean…?” he whispered to Geralt, praying for help.

“It means she’s third in line for the throne. Ridgelburg is a matriarchy, which means only its princesses may ascend the throne. If she’s the tertiary heir, that means she has two older sisters. Haven’t been to Ridgelburg in a long time… I remember when it used to be part of a larger country called Temeria, too.” Geralt explained.

“You did save my life, so I shall forgive you this once. What is your name, boy?” Lunanestra huffed, finally backing up from his face.

“Lucifar Fromarl of Kaer Morhen...” he replied.

“Well, Lucifar Fromarl of Kaer Morhen, you are cordially invited to the Palace of Sanctity in Ridgelburg. Your unique talent may prove useful to a problem I am having at home with a certain menace.” she spoke, her nose high in the air.

“Um… what kind of menace?” Lucifar asked.

“A dragon, an inexplicably rare breed known as an Elder Dragon to be exact. We can fend it off well enough for now, but it grows ever bolder. We know not whence it came, only that it must be stopped. Whether your father kills it or you tame it, I care only that it is dealt with.” she explained in detail.

“I think we can work a trip to Ridgelburg into our schedule.” Geralt nodded.

“Good. You shall be paid whatever you desire once the job is done, Lucifar Fromarl of Kaer Morhen.” Lunanestra giggled, carefully turning herself around to begin leaving.

“Girls are scary…” Lucifar sighed, able to relax now that she was gone.

“Your first outing and already you’ve got a job from a foreign princess. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she likes you.” Geralt smirked.

“She was all up in my face though.” Lucifar spoke matter of factly.

“Ah, childhood innocence.” Geralt chuckled.


	3. A Hunting We Will Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt takes his boy on one more contract before they head for Novigrad, then Ridgelburg.

Geralt entered Huxley x Moxie with Lucifar close behind, and Moxie came out once more to greet them. A smirk came to her face as Geralt approached the counter.

“Heard you’re the best place in town to get my swords touched up.” Geralt told her.

“Who blabbed? Kidding aside, Huxley can fix anything from steel to orichalcum. If you need any gunsmithing done, I’m your woman.” Moxie replied.

“I’d like my swords fixed up. They took a bit of a beating on my last hunt, and going in with shoddy equipment is a death sentence.” Geralt told her, placing his blades on the counter.

“That’ll be 100 crowns.” she replied.

“Only a hundred? Here the mayor was thinking I need a peacekeeper discount.” Geralt chuckled, paying up.

“Normally it’d be 400. You’re getting the peacekeeper discount is why it’s only 100. I’ll make sure he gets right on ‘em.” Moxie smirked, taking his swords to the back.

“This is the shop you snuck off to, isn’t it?” Geralt asked Lucifar.

“Yes…” he admitted nervously.

“Have any interest in anything in particular? Guns are off limits to minors by law, but I am allowed to give you a close-quarters weapon for self-defence. It’ll be your coin, but I have to vouch for you as your parent.” Geralt asked him.

“Do I need a weapon?” Lucifar tilted his head.

“It’d give me peace of mind. We won’t always be facing the enemy head on, so in the event we get separated I want to know that you can at least defend yourself. I’ve already told you how important it is to be able to survive without relying on your pets a hundred times now.” he explained.

“I’ve got the pocket knife that Vesemir gave me for my seventh birthday on me.” he smiled.

“Nice of you to keep it on your person, but a knife won’t be much help against monsters. Pick two weapons, one silver and one of another type. Look for ones you can realistically use at your size.” Geralt ordered gently.

Lucifar then walked among the melee weapon shelves again. Now that he was looking at the prices, some were really high while others were pretty low. A bit of advice from Vesemir then popped up from his memory. Vesemir always said “the quality of a weapon is not based on its price tag but by how it was forged and what it is forged from”. Taking that advice to heart, Lucifar found a sleek yet sturdy-looking silver short sword that in his grip looked like a full-sized sword. It was a decent 600 crowns but overall felt worth the price. For the sword made of another metal, Lucifar picked another short sword that appeared to be made of a black and white material. It didn’t feel like metal to the touch, yet sung like high quality steel when swung through the air. It was only 450 crowns compared to the silver sword. His selections made, he returned to show his father the weapons.

“You’re sure about them?” Geralt asked.

“Final answer.” he smiled.

“All righty, your swords are ready.” Moxie spoke, returning to the room with Geralt’s swords.

“Next I’m going to vouch for my boy to buy some swords.” Geralt told her.

“So your father is a Witcher, huh? I saw the display earlier with the Stonewalker. That piece of crap busted out the front wall of the shop the last time it tore through town. Thanks a bunch for bringing it under control.” Moxie smiled.

“No problem.” Lucifar smiled, placing his selection on the counter.

“That’ll be 500 crowns.” Moxie told him.

“The prices come up to 1,050 don’t they?” he tilted his head.

“You get the peacekeeper discount for taking care of Public Nuisance #1. Many shops are in your debt, and many destroyed goods have been avenged.” she winked.

“Look at you, little hero.” Geralt chuckled.

After paying for the blades it took Lucifar a few moments to figure out how to strap them to himself. Once on, the two returned to their horses and began to ride. The townsfolk gave them warm waves farewell, something Geralt usually never received. It was a nice change of pace, that was for sure.

“So where are we going next?” Lucifar asked him.

“There is a harpy nest a bit north of here in an old watch tower. We’re going to take care of that and claim the bounty.” Geralt answered.

“I could catch a harpy friend…” he gasped with sparkling eyes.

“Harpies are annoying as is, so I’d rather you didn’t.” Geralt stated.

“Why not?” he asked.

“They smell, they’re ugly, and above all they’re worse than normal birds when it comes to noise making.” Geeralt replied.

“Just one…?”

“Lucifar.” Geralt frowned, looking in the direction of the boy to find him absent from his horse.

“I can see their nest from here!” Lucifar’s voice echoed from above alerting him to a harpy holding him by the shoulders.

“Lucifar!” Geralt cried, aiming his crossbow trying to get a shot that wouldn’t risk hitting him.

He made Roach speed up to keep up with the harpy and soon reached the tower in question. Geralt rushed up the stairs as quickly as he could, hearing the ruckus up top. When he kicked the door down he found a slaughter, and in the middle of it was Phoebe, chewing the skull of a fallen Harpy as Lucifar sat against a wall covered in feathers.

“I’m okay! I pulled Phoebe out when the bastard dropped me.” he beamed.

“Language…” Geralt sighed heavily, almost sinking to his knees.

“You use that word all the time, what’s wrong with it?” he frowned.

“Yen would kill me if you picked up a habit of swearing, so do me a favor and don’t ever swear.” Geralt told him.

“Okay.” he nodded, standing to start picking feathers from his hair.

“You need a bath, mister. You smell like a harpy after that encounter.” Geralt groaned, pinching his nose.

A small cracking sound alerted the two to a single egg in one of the ruined nests. It soon broke revealing a baby harpy that squawked and yowled. Without giving it a second thought Lucifar touched it with his palm transforming it into a cage. Lifting it, he spotted Geralt giving him mildly annoyed eyes.

“You’re in charge of cleaning it.” Geralt sighed.

Lucifar could tell he smelled, as when they got out of the tower even his mare refused to come near him. For the ride back to town he had to ride Phoebe, as griffins don’t care much for smell unless hunting. Once outside town he put Phoebe back in her cage and walked alongside Roach into town. Geralt got a room at the local inn to have Lucifar clean up while he claims the reward. The mayor was overjoyed to hear the harpy problem was taken care of.

“Those flying vermin will terrorize our fields no more! They won’t shit upon passersby either, for that matter.” he cheered.

“So how’s the Stonewalker serving you?” Geralt asked him.

“Why it’s already fended off several bandits with ease. That should teach those ruffians to keep trying to raid our town. I’m very grateful to both you and the lad!” he laughed in response.

“Yeah. He’s getting washed up after that hunt, so I’ll tell him you’re grateful.” Geralt nodded.

“He wasn’t hurt was he? I know harpies are partial to the tender flesh of children.” the mayor asked.

“No, but he definitely smelled after.” Geralt answered.

“That is a relief. My niece was asking about him a moment ago. If I didn’t know better I’d say she’s quite taken with the lad, which is rare. She often has trouble making friends, so it is refreshing to see her make an effort.” the mayor told him.

“A princess? Trouble making friends? All of the princesses I’ve met are social butterflies.” Geralt scoffed.

“Well, Lunanestra never had to worry about the throne so when she could she would be around her father in his workshop. That brother of mine was always very good with his hands. When he made the queen her prosthetic leg she was so fascinated by him and his talents that she fell in love.” the mayor explained.

“Ah, so you’re related to the king.” Geralt smiled.

“Indeed. The nobles of the kingdom were quite unhappy that she was marrying ‘a foreign bumpkin’ as they so  _ eloquently _ put it.” he nodded.

“Bet family reunions must be fun.” Geralt chuckled.

“Oh the looks of disgust on their faces is simply exquisite, as my dear sister-in-law has so graciously given our side of the family status as nobility.” he laughed heartily.

“Lucifar should be done cleaning up by now, so I should collect my reward and get going.” Geralt told him.

“Ah yes, your reward. Here you are, 900 crowns.” he smiled, handing the witcher a sack of coin.

“Nine-hundred? I thought we agreed on 400.” Geralt raised his brow.

“You’ve done such a splendid job helping us. Your boy also saved my niece. If I could get away with it I’d pay you even more. Our town will always remember your services.” the mayor explained.

“You’re very generous. Thank you.” Geralt nodded.

“No, thank  _ you _ , Geralt of Rivia.” the mayor chuckled.

Geralt returned to the inn to find wet paw prints on the floor along with many feathers. He peered into the bathroom and found Lucifar trying to bathe Phoebe. Squawking in a small water basin was the baby harpy he’d tamed, its tiny feathers a bloody red.

“I know it tickles but you gotta clean everywhere, Phoebe.” Lucifar grumbled, getting deep in her mane.

“Having fun?” Geralt snickered.

“I’m bathing both of them. Ava is bathing happily, so why won’t Phoebe sit still?” Lucifar asked him.

“So you named the harpy…” Geralt sighed.

“Course I named her. Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, getting behind Phoebe’s ears with a sponge making her emit a low growl in joy.

“In the morning we’ll start heading south toward Ridgelburg. We’ll make a pit stop in Novigrad before we get there, pay a friend of mine a visit while we’re at it. Just because we have a royal invitation doesn’t mean we’ll be guaranteed passage.” Geralt told him.

“Doesn’t a royal invitation from their princess mean they have to let us through?” Lucifar cocked his head.

“It’s complicated. We’d be well into the night if I explained it all.” the witcher sighed.

“So, grown up stuff?” he asked, smiling.

“Huh?”

“Mom says that when she doesn’t feel like explaining, or that I’m too little to understand… she says it’s ‘grown up stuff’.” he explained.

“In that case, yeah, it’s grown up stuff. It’d probably go in one ear and right out the other even if I explained it clearly.” Geralt nodded.

“Will I understand once I’m older?” the boy asked.

“Probably.” he shrugged.

By morning the two had set out once more, though Geralt had Lucifar’s horse by the reins as the lad had fallen asleep in the saddle. He was sure the boy would get used to travel soon enough, but was nice enough to let him sleep nonetheless. By midday he was up and at ‘em, looking around as they rode along. Everything seemed peaceful and serene, for once.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

Not ten minutes passed before...

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

After about an hour...

“Are we there yet?”

“No…”

“You sure?”

“Do you see a city anywhere close by?”

“No… but we gotta be close by now right?”

“Lucifar, there’s a good ways to go yet. It’ll probably be tomorrow by the time we get there.”

“Tomorrow…? We could get there in half the time on Phoebe.”

“We talked about this, we can’t just abandon the horses. People also won’t take well to seeing a griffin swooping into town.”

“Ow, but it gets stuffy in her cage…”

“How do you know?”

“I can feel it.”

“Oh can you?”

“Uh-huh. Uncle Vesemir said to always listen to your gut. My gut says she’s going crazy in there.”

“She’s fine, what your gut wants is  _ food _ .”

“Nuh-uh, it’s telling me things.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t listen to your gut enough.”

“Vesemir taught you that one didn’t he?”

“Nope. Mom did.”

“Of course she did. Careful of who you use those insults on, okay? Not everyone has a sense of humor.”

“Like you?”

“Hey.”

“That on was Uncle Vesemir.”

“That’s it, you aren’t spending time around the old timer anymore. Getting zinged by my own kid here…”

“Mom wasn’t lying when she said you’re an easy target either. You walked into those setups without a second thought.”

“You don’t expect that from a kid, so you’ll forgive me for being trusting.”

“Vesemir’s Wisdom #1: It doesn’t matter who it is, don’t let your guard down.”

“Now you’re using the geezer’s words of wisdom on me? Are you 8 or 80?”

When they stopped for the night and Lucifar was asleep Yen stepped through a portal grabbing Geralt’s attention. She was holding a book of notes.

“To what do I owe the visit?” Geralt asked her.

“I thought you’d like to know something I learned. I did a bit of looking into the past for any signs of his power, and stumbled upon a thread. In the past 600 years there have been sporadic cases of ‘tame’ monsters across the world. All of them were hunted on the suspicion of being very dangerous to settlements. They all share common characteristics: discoloration from others of their species, docile temperament, they never hunt, and exhibit an almost doglike desire for human interactivity. These match Phoebe’s tamed characteristics perfectly. I think it’s safe to assume that he isn’t the only one with this gift.” Yennefer explained to him.

“So what do I do?” Geralt asked her.

“Keep an extra cat eye out for him. There could be multiple parties who see great value in someone who can tame monsters. From slavers to cults… you never know for sure anymore.” she answered.

“I’ll be very cautious in Novigrad then. Thanks for the heads up, Yen.” he nodded.

“You let him know how much I miss him, okay?” she ordered, kissing the witcher.

“What, you don’t miss me too?” he snickered.

“It’s implied.” she winked, a smile on her face before she returned through the portal, causing it to vanish.

“I see how it is. I  _ imply _ that I miss you too.” Geralt laughed to himself.


	4. The Streets of Novigrad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and his boy arrive in Novigrad at last only to learn that Lucifar needs a Letter of Business to cross into Ridgelburg. So the two decide to help the Four Kingpins solve their current issue with a monster fighting ring...

It was late afternoon when Geralt and Lucifar could finally see tall stone walls. There were plenty of merchants and people traveling to and from the city.

“That is Novigrad, a free city. No kingdom controls its people. It’s also one of the last pit stops before crossing the border southwest into Ridgelburg.” Geralt told him.

“It’s huge… way bigger than Birchmouth…” Lucifar spoke, his mouth agape.

“If we’re lucky we’ll get there before dark.” Geralt smiled.

Upon entering the city people instantly gave Geralt dirty looks and rude remarks - no surprises there. People were giving Lucifar befuddled looks though, wondering why he didn’t look like the typical ward of a Witcher. The two made their way to the Chameleon, where much merriment was had as usual. Geralt approached a woman with long braided blonde hair at the front desk making her jump a little.

“Geralt…!? Spring already...?” she questioned the witcher.

“Nice to see you too, Val. Jeremy here?” Geralt asked her.

“Locked in his studio downstairs, as usual. He was spouting some nonsense about a boy riding a griffin of all things. You’d have to ask him yourself. Lord knows what that brother of mine actually saw out there.” she told him.

“Dad, who’s Jeremy?” Lucifar asked him.

“Oh right. Lucifar, this is a friend of mine. Her name is Valery Pankratz, and she’s the owner of the Chameleon. Val, this is my son Lucifar.” Geralt introduced them.

“Oh yes, the one Lady Yennefer mentioned in her letter. Abandoned on your step, wasn’t it?” Valery asked.

“Yeah.” Geralt nodded.

“He’s a cute kid. Might be a lady killer when he’s older.” she smiled, giving Lucifar an appraising gaze.

“I don’t wanna kill people!” he cried in a panic.

“That’s not what she means, Lucifar.” Geralt laughed, patting his head comfortingly.

“Innocent too? I’m impressed.” Valery smirked.

“Hey now.” Geralt huffed.

Geralt led Lucifar down a stairwell and to a paint-stained door. When he opened the door Lucifar’s nose was greeted by the intense smells of many different paint mediums. Inside the floor had tan tarp all over it. On the walls were different paintings from scribbles to portraits. Strewn around the room were smashed and torn canvases with odd scrawls on them. Painting erratically on a canvas in the middle of the room was a teenage boy with long brown hair stained with various paints. He was only dressed in black slacks held up with a red belt, showing his somewhat skinny body also stained with paint of varying colors.

“Why…? Why…? Why…? Rrrrrgh, damn it! Why can’t I remember that visage?!” the teen cried, lifting the canvas to smash it over his knee and toss it on the pile at his left.

“Jeremy. You okay, buddy?” Geralt addressed the teen making him whirl around.

“Geralt! I need your help! Somewhere out there I saw a boy riding on the back of a griffin! Not being taken away as lunch,  _ riding _ it! No one believes me, but I know what I saw! You don’t just ‘see’ that kind of thing! I just… I just need to see it a second time and paint its majestic visage…!” Jeremy blurted out, grabbing the witcher’s shoulders.

“What’d this griffin look like?” Geralt asked him.

“It was young, but its colors didn’t match any species I’ve seen. Shades of blue and turquoise. On its back was a young boy. I didn’t get a good look, but I know they’re out there! You believe me, don’t you, Geralt?!” he explained, shaking him a bit.

“Of course I do. I happen to know that boy.” Geralt nodded.

“Geralt… not you too…” Jeremy whimpered, sinking to his knees looking ready to cry.

“He’s right here. Jeremy, meet my son Lucifar. He can tame monsters.” Geralt smirked, turning to Lucifar.

“Stop pulling my chain, Geralt, everybody else already has… even Val… and she’s my flesh and blood...” he sniffled.

“Phoebe.” Lucifar spoke, opening the cage door.

When the majestic Pocket Griffin came out of her cage the painter let out a high pitched effeminate scream as he backed up to the wall, knocking some paintings down in the process. Phoebe stretched with a mighty yawn before sitting on her hind end to begin pruning her feathers. Valery burst into the room brandishing a battle axe and gasped loudly upon seeing the griffin.

“W-Why is there a griffin here?!” Valery cried.

“Val, Jeremy, meet the boy who rode a griffin. He’s very real. He’s my son, Lucifar. He can tame monsters, as I told Jeremy a second ago.” Geralt told them.

“That’s… incredible… and terrifying…” Val responded after taking Phoebe’s visage in for a moment.

“When I heard that Jeremy saw him in flight I knew I had to introduce them.” Geralt nodded.

“It’s even more beautiful up close… yes… yes… the image of them in flight is coming to me…” Jeremy spoke, rubbing his temples.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Lucifar asked curiously.

“You might wanna stand back.” Geralt smirked, gently pulling him backwards.

Jeremy then moved quick as thunder, grabbing a new canvas and paints. The easel creaked and squeaked as the teenager began rapidly slapping paint upon the canvas. Paint was splattering all over as he worked. Now and then he turned his head to look at Lucifar and Phoebe so fast you’d think his neck could snap at any second. After just ten minutes of this madness, Jeremy stopped… and he began to snicker… then began to chuckle… and then burst out laughing.

“It’s done… my masterpiece is finished!” he screamed with joy.

“Is he… okay…?” Lucifar raised a brow, tapping his head.

“When something inspires Jeremy, his heart for artistry ignites with the flames of creativity. He made all of these paintings you see on the walls. All of them while poorly dressed and slapping paint on a canvas. He’s eccentric, true, but don’t worry. He’s just fine in the head.” Geralt explained with a smile.

“Behold… ‘A Boy And His Griffin - In Flight’...” Jeremy giggled like a schoolgirl, stepping aside from the canvas.

The painting revealed was of a beautiful evening sky showing the horizon. Depicted in that sky was Lucifar on the back of Phoebe. He’d caught as much detail as he could from the perspective shown on the canvas. His movements looked like he’d just slapped paint on and hoped for the best, but it seemed that they had far more finesse to them than they first suggest. Lucifar didn’t have much experience with paintings, so this really took his breath away.

“Okay… but you aren’t going into the lobby with your griffin are you…?” Val asked them.

“Phoebe, return.” Lucifar commanded, retrieving his griffin back into her cage in a blast of light by opening the cage door again.

“See, Jeremy? I wasn’t pulling your chain.” Geralt smiled at the painter.

“Thank you, Geralt. I’m sorry that I doubted you.” Jeremy nodded apologetically.

“...and I’m sorry to you, Jeremy. I should have been a better sister and showed some faith in what you saw.” Valery sighed.

“Jeremy, you did a portrait for Princess Anna Vigaldi Von Ridgelburg III recently, right? What was Ridgelburg like with travelers when you went there?” Geralt asked him.

“Business in Ridgelburg? Travel’s been heavily restricted thanks to their Elder Dragon problem. No one’s allowed through the border at the moment unless it’s broad daylight and you’ve got a Letter of Business from the Guild of Mercantilism.” Jeremy answered in detail.

“I already have a letter… but something tells me that won’t get Lucifar through since it only speaks on my behalf, not both of us. We never got any proof of a royal invitation so word of mouth won’t do us any good until we get to Ridgelburg’s capital.” Geralt sighed.

“A royal invitation? Anna change her mind on how she looks at witchers?” Valery asked.

“No. Lucifar here piqued the interest of Princess Lunanestra, the tertiary heir. Invited us to deal with their Elder Dragon problem. She wants Lucifar to tame it. Likely to bolster the kingdom’s defenses.” Geralt explained.

“Well, good luck getting the Guild to sponsor a child. They’ve cracked down on who they give Letters of Business to lately. Too many smuggling mishaps and monster invasions have made the Four Kingpins pissed off at outside black hands trying to muscle in on territory.” Valery sighed.

“Who are the Four Kingpins?” Lucifar asked his father, looking lost.

“They run the Guild of Mercantilism by day, and the black market by night. They make sure the city doesn’t go belly up in the water. I’ve known the four of them since they were knee high to me, so hopefully I can talk them into giving you a letter to get through the border.” Geralt explained, patting his head.

“It’s well past business hours for the Guild isn’t it?” Jeremy asked.

“That’s the best time to catch the four, or at least one of them.” Geralt smiled.

Geralt then led Lucifar through the streets of Novigrad, taking Lucifar to the back of a huge building. Unlike the other buildings, the door there was solid steel with an eye slot. Geralt then performed a very intricate knock and the eye slot opened showing a pair of green eyes.

“When the wind blows.” a woman’s voice spoke.

“It howls with the cries of the cheated.” Geralt replied, and then the door opened.

“What was that?” Lucifar asked as they entered.

“Passphrase to make sure people they don’t know or trust can’t get in.” the witcher answered.

Inside of the building were piles of money bags, goods, and equipment. There were also elves and people working together to sort things. Lucifar had never seen an elf before so their ears perplexed him. Geralt led him all the way to a strange dark oak door with intricate designs on it.

“Good, looks like they’re still here. That means we can talk to all four at once.” Geralt nodded, touching the door.

“How do you know?” Lucifar asked him.

“This door only appears when the four need to discuss something. The fact it hasn’t vanished yet is proof they’re still debating. Knowing those four though, it’s probably broken into an argument. Likely over something stupid.” Geralt answered before pushing the doors open.

The inside of the room looked to be a garden of sorts with birds chirping and wildlife grazing nearby. Sitting on marble thrones were four people in black robes obscuring their features, arguing loudly as Geralt had thought they would be.

“Geralt, tell them!” the four roared in unison, startling Lucifar into falling over and scrambling to hide behind the witcher.

“Back up to the start. What are you four arguing about?” Geralt told them.

“There’s a monster fighting ring in Novigrad somewhere, and whoever’s running it knows how to keep it from us. If we don’t figure it out even more dumbasses who think they’re hot stuff are going to wind up hucked onto the street as bloody corpses. We’re trying to decide how to go about smoking the ringleader out.” the more burly of the four explained in a deep male voice.

“I’m more than confident my shadows can find them, but they’re far too impatient to wait for them to turn something up.” the more skinny one spoke in a woman’s voice.

“They think us soft, so we need to take action to remedy that. No more sparing people we catch muscling in on our turf. Kill them the moment we find them!” the tall one spoke in a harsher female voice, slamming her fist on her chair.

“It could be more lucrative for us if we…  _ appropriate _ their assets, and perhaps make the fights less likely to cause death.” the average-size of them spoke in a man’s voice.

“Just when you had solved the mystery of the pregnant virgins, another pain in the ass shows up.” Geralt sighed.

“You understand our agitation well. Is it so hard to ask that no further problems arise when we cut the head off the current snake?” the burly one sighed heavily.

“How about I help out with the problem? In return I need a favor.” Geralt told them.

“Name it.” the average one spoke.

“I need a Letter of Business for my boy here. We’re headed for Ridgelburg to take care of their Elder Dragon problem, but border security is tight from what Jeremy tells me.” Geralt explained, pulling Lucifar in front of him.

“The boy who can tame monsters… I received word from my plant in Birchmouth the other day but didn’t believe it.” the slim woman stated.

“Sounds interesting enough.” the harsh woman huffed.

“If you solve it then with just the letter we’d be underpaying you for the work… but we won’t turn away the extra help at this point no matter what you ask of us.” the burly man nodded.

“Ezra, put on a combat festival.” Geralt commanded the burly man.

“Eh?”

“Their ring is designed to bring in people looking for a real fight, isn’t it? So what if we beat them at their own game? Or better yet tempt them into exposing themselves? Your fight festivals have never failed to leave its spectators wanting more, after all.” Geralt explained.

“Very true.” Ezra nodded.

“Korra, your guards will patrol as if to keep the peace, but take action the minute they spot any trace of monster fighting not run by Ezra’s men. Take them alive if you can, but if they resist then it can’t be helped if they’re killed can it?” Geralt ordered the harsh woman.

“I’ll wear a disguise and patrol as well… my blood’s hot enough to thirst for the blood of others right now.” she growled.

“Mi’velle, your shadows will keep watch from all angles and report any activity they find immediately.” Geralt ordered the slim woman.

“I’m liking this plan more and more.” Mi’velle giggled.

“Orro, your merchants will pull out all the stops to make a killing in sales on festival items. Toys, booze, anything you can think of.” Geralt ordered the remaining member.

“Easy as pie.” Orro snapped his fingers.

“I’ll be investigating as well and let you know anything I find.” Geralt told them.

“To catch a picky rat, you need the finest bait. It won’t be just any fighting tournament, but a monster fighting tournament. We’ll do as Orro suggested and effectively neuter the beasts’ lethal abilities before letting people fight them.” Ezra chuckled, stroking his chin.

“Steal their very gimmick? That could really piss ‘em off.” Geralt smirked.

“Good.” the four stated in unison.

“Why are they wearing robes…?” Lucifar asked his father.

“To keep their identities a secret. They know what each other looks like, I know what they look like, but everyone working for them doesn’t. It makes it pretty hard to knock a kingpin off their perch if no one knows what they look like.” Geralt explained.

“So we’ll be in Novigrad a while, huh?” Lucifar asked.

“Hey, it gives you time to take it all in. Novigrad used to be a pretty terrible place. These days it promotes friendly relations between humans and elves. Kids can actually wander the streets without fearing for their safety.” Geralt told him.

When they arrived back in the Chameleon it was dark out. Jeremy had fully cleaned himself up and put on a shirt. He was sitting in one of the bar stools with his legs up, an odd quirk of his that even Geralt doesn’t understand. Normally Jeremy will hide in his studio or be upstairs on the third floor, but during the late hours of the night he can occasionally be found there enjoying some juice. At this time of night the Chameleon is winding down and the only people still having some food and drink are the people who get off the late night shift.

“So how’d it go?” Valery asked him as she wiped the counter clean.

“We’re going to help the Four with their problem. Ezra’s going to throw a monster fighting tournament, held in such a way the participants’ lives aren’t in danger. It’s supposed to smoke out a monster fighting ring.” Geralt explained.

“Sounds interesting enough.” Jeremy shrugged.

“Monster fighting… some drunk tried to get me to go with him to see a fight the other night.” Valery huffed.

“Really…? Did he happen to say where…?” Geralt asked, leaning on the counter.

“West docks, Warehouse 14. The abandoned one where whores like to hang about. Well, where they  _ used _ to hang about. They say the place is bad for business now thanks to the bodies found there.” she answered.

“Lucifar, go rest in my usual room. I’m going to go check that warehouse out.” Geralt ordered.

“I can’t go too…?” he whined.

“You need your sleep. Come on.” Geralt told him, walking him up to the third floor.

After showing Lucifar to the room Geralt was off for the western pier. With how well the culprit covers their tracks, it wouldn’t be long until they scrub the place of evidence. When he got there the very air around it felt shady. Opening the doors, everything looked as it should, for an abandoned warehouse. There were worn dusty crates and barrels all over. Here and there he could see makeshift cloth beds in areas hidden by walls of odds and ends, likely employed by the whores who used to stomp around here. Using his witcher sense he spotted something odd on one of the barrels - a scratch mark. It was very close to the bottom so unless you really looked you’d miss it easily. He knelt down to examine it closer, narrowing his eyes at it.

“Deep. Too splintered to have been a blade. Whatever made this has some sharp claws. Dirt around the bottom is disturbed too. Could the culprit have just moved everything back to the way it was when their fights were over…?” Geralt questioned, standing up.

Geralt continued to investigate and kept finding subtle signs that something had definitely gone down besides whores looking to have fun for coin. He passed by a large hay bale and leaned against it to think…

“Fuck!”

Something had given the witcher’s back a very sharp prick! He turned around to investigate and saw something ever so subtly sticking out of the hay. Parting some of the hay, it was revealed to be a jet black horn. Pulling it out, it seemed to have been busted off with incredible force as there was dried blood on the base of it. It made him wonder what it was from, because the tip had been sharpened to a very fine point - it went right through his gear and all he did was lean on it. That also prompted the question of how it got there. Was it knocked in or hidden there to conceal evidence? That proved that a fight happened here alright, but he couldn’t find any indication of where the next could be. With unfortunately no leads, he returned to the Chameleon with the horn tucked into his pack.

Geralt told Valery and Jeremy of his findings, even showing the horn, before going upstairs. When he entered the room there was a lump under the covers - Lucifar had grumbled himself to sleep probably. He knew what he’d said about needing his sleep, but Geralt could at least tell him what he found. When he moved the sheet… horror struck Geralt. It was one of the sacks from the warehouse he was just at, with a note pinned to it. Written on it in red ink was “ _ Can’t wait for the festival, Witch-Bitch. ;p” _ ...

“LUCIFAR!!!”


	5. The Festival - Perspective A, Lucifar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Lucifar experiences the Monster Fighting Festival after being kidnapped.

Lucifar came to inside of a cage finding himself in a poorly lit room. The floor of his container was padded, so at least he wasn’t uncomfortable despite practically sleeping on the floor. His mind was hazy, barely able to remember what had happened. The door of the room opened and a dark skinned woman with short red hair entered the room. She was dressed in black boots, a red skirt with a gold chain bearing cross charms along it dangling from her hip, a black double breasted coat, white gloves, and an eyepatch. She approached the cage and knelt down with a smile on her face.

“Wakey wakey. Sleep well?” she giggled.

“Where am I…?” he groaned.

“My current hideaway. You, my little friend, are going to make me a fortune. Taming monsters? Shut all kinds of up. There is a very  _ big _ market for that, and all we have to do… is deliver.” she answered.

“Where’s my dad…?” Lucifar gasped, looking around in a panic.

“Oh, Witch-bitch can look for you all he likes… he won’t find you though, even if he did find the right room. Aren’t phased dimensions great?” she smirked.

“What…?” he asked, beginning to hyperventilate and tear up.

“Don’t look so sad… you’re at a very tender age, I know, not ready to be on your own… so I’ll be your mommy if you want.” she snickered, tapping the bars of the cage.

“Dad said if I ever got a suspicious offer from someone to tell them something very important…” Lucifar sniffled.

“Oh? What is it?” she smiled, putting her ear near the cage looking intent to listen.

“Fuck off and ride a Chort!” he screamed in her ear, making her wince covering that ear.

“A pleasant message… to be sure.” she huffed, gently rubbing her ear.

“Let me go!” he cried, trying to get the door off the cage.

“Listen, kid, I’m trying to be nice here. I  _ hate _ brats like you. If it weren’t for the fortune right under my nose I’d just slit your throat right now. So behave yourself and tame whatever monster I put in there with you, got it?” she scowled, kicking the cage hard enough to make it tip over making him land on his back.

“Ow…” he whimpered, holding his back.

“Now… if you’ll excuse me, I have a rare specimen to fetch. This festival of theirs is the perfect opportunity to lure in more fighters...” she told him, straightening herself out before leaving the room.

She slammed the door behind her and Lucifar sat up looking around. There had to be something within reach he could pick or bust the lock with, surely. Looking at the north end of the cage he saw a work table right within arm’s reach. He could just barely spot a screwdriver and began reaching for it. Pressing himself against the bars it seemed just out of his reach. He began slapping the table in desperation to try and bounce it toward him. On the ninth slap it finally bounced the table with enough force to make the driver roll around so he could grab the metal part. Pulling it into the cage he looked it over finding it to be just the right size for the lock. Rotating the chains on the door and cage so the lock faced him, he crossed his legs and began trying to jimmy the lock. He’d seen Geralt do it a few times, but didn’t have any practice doing it himself. He once saw Vesemir do it with a fork too, so how hard could it be?

The answer was  _ much harder _ , as he just couldn’t seem to get it. He’d worked up a nervous sweat as he failed again and again to get it to pop, worried a guard or that woman might come back any second. He gave it one last desperate attempt and -  _ kerchak _ . The lock opened and plopped silently into his lap. He carefully opened the cage door and climbed out. One of Vesemir’s lessons then came to his head - buying time when you’re escaping. He decided to mess with them by putting the lock back on the cage. When he made for the door, he heard footsteps coming toward it. In a panic he ran for the window and leapt out, holding onto the ledge. Below he could see a bustling festival going on with fights between individuals and monsters all over the place. He was inside of the encapsulating defense wall around Novigrad! This was where soldiers defend the city from outside invasion with ranged artillery!

“Boss told me to bring you this food, you lit-what the!? Kev! Kev, you said he’s too big to slip through the bars right?!”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well apparently not, he’s gone!”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“The boss will have our heads if we don’t find him…”

“She’s not going to find out. Start looking, let the others know, but don’t you dare say anything to her.”

Lucifar was way too high up to simply drop down, but the strange thing was that no one seemed able to see him dangling there. Even people in buildings higher up that could easily spot him didn’t seem to notice. Reluctantly, he climbed back in the window once the two guards had left. He snuck into the hall and hid in an empty crate with a lid he found. The bottom of it was loose, allowing him to stealthily break the rest of the crate from it to use as a mobile disguise. He stuck to the large clusters of crates and boxes so he wouldn’t ever be out of place. Making his way down a flight of stairs the crate’s size began making it hard to keep his balance.

“Billy, that you? Need some grub for the beasts. Can you toss me a crate?” a woman’s voice called from below.

At that moment Lucifar lost his footing causing him to tumble down the stairs, miraculously landing lid up maintaining his cover. He was sore from it, but managed to keep quiet.

“Thanks Billy.” the woman’s voice spoke again, and the crate was then lifted making Lucifar curl up to keep from being found out.

“Oof, some heft to it. Must be the champ’s meal. I’ll make a second trip for food to give the chumps, Billy, be ready!” the woman called.

Lucifar wasn’t sure just how far he was carried, mostly because he was more concerned about losing his grip, but knew it was down several flights of stairs. Several cage doors were opened along with a very thick metal door. He was then chucked across wherever he was and landed hard, barely able to keep from making a sound as his rump skid across a steel floor.

“Food, champ… if you can reach it.” the woman’s voice cackled, the metal door closing behind her.

Lucifar then heard the rattling of very thick chains. The rattling was accompanied by heavy-sounding cloven footsteps. They stopped when the steps got right near the crate.

“I can smell you… come out…” a stern, yet soft, woman’s voice commanded.

That made Lucifar nervous. What was he locked into a room with? What would happen if he revealed himself?

“You have to the count of three before I smash that crate… and you…” the voice snarled.

That made him start panicking. What were his options now? Crate on the loose? He wouldn’t be able to open the door unless he ditched the disguise. Then he’d be at the mercy of the guards.

“One… two...” the voice counted, seeming to strain itself.

Unable to think of an alternative, Lucifar chose to stand taking the lid up with him leaving the walls of the crate on the floor. Standing before him was a tall, muscular, pale-skinned woman with goat legs bearing jet black fur matching her long unkempt hair. She had large swirling black goat horns on her head with the ends sharpened. Her body was covered in countless scars. She was dressed in a blood red loincloth and a breastplate fitted to show off the size of her chest, highly impractical for battle as shown by the holes made by weapons. Her hands were covered in dried blood that hadn’t been washed off in ages by the looks of it. Her eyes were a piercing red, like those described of goats in religious texts. She had her arms raised up into a striking position, but then gently lowered them.

“A child…?” she huffed, raising an eyebrow.

“Hello…” he nervously waved, tossing the lid aside.

“Why would they try to feed me a child…? Do they truly think me some beast…?” she grumbled.

“Those features… are you a succubus?” Lucifar asked her.

“You know your hybrids, boy.” she replied, narrowing her eyes.

“I wasn’t technically being fed to you… I was trying to escape.” Lucifar admitted to her.

“All of us wish we could escape, but Shibalba…? She has the power of the Demon’s Gaze on her side. She keeps up trapped in this limbo, the Phased Reality she calls it. We are both inside and outside of the real world… and she decides whether or not we leave.” the succubus told him.

“No she doesn’t.” Lucifar replied, making her look at him like he’s dumb.

“Explain yourself, boy.”

“I read about it once. The Demon’s Gaze is an alchemized jewel that cloaks whatever the maker desires. It gets its name because it looks like a demon eyeball staring into your soul. It’s about the size of a child’s ball, impossible to carry on your person. If she has one, it’s probably hidden someplace.” Lucifar explained.

“You’re knowledgeable… for a child.”

“Son of a Witcher.” he smiled.

“That explains it. I overheard that you can tame monsters…” she sighed, sitting on a poorly made throne.

“Yeah.” he nodded, smiling.

“Wrong. What you are doing is enslaving them.” she told him, making him stop smiling.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Lucifar asked, cocking his head.

“I’ve seen the mark upon your palms before. It is called ‘The Eye of Obedience’, and anything not human that is touched by it is robbed of their free will. Nothing the marked can do will ever break them free of its influence, even after the bearer of the mark dies. It is eternal, and so is their servitude. It was brought into this world by hands too greedy for their own good, and it can no longer be removed. A cancer is what it is. None can resist its influence.” she told him coldly.

“You’re wrong! I’m not taming monsters because I want to enslave them!” Lucifar cried, stepping toward her.

“How are you and Shibalba any different from each other? Intentions be damned, both of you bear the intent to make us subservient. You are cursed, boy.” the succubus huffed.

“I’m only taming monsters that are causing problems for human settlements. I’ve only tamed three monsters so far.” Lucifar told her.

“That three will soon become hundreds. In the end you will become worse than what you are trying to stop.” she growled.

“How do you know that? Can you see the future?” Lucifar asked her.

“I know the hearts of men. I’ve been with enough of them to know how they think and how they act.” she scowled.

“Not everyone is the same. My dad doesn’t kill people or monsters because he wants to, but because his hand is forced. I’m not like those guys you’ve seen either.” Lucifar sternly argued.

“You have no legs to stand on in this argument, boy. You will soon learn that you too will become corrupted and twisted.” she told him.

“Fine. I get it… succubi really are just dumb big-headed bullies.” Lucifar huffed.

“Resorting to childish insults now? It only shows just how little you understand the world.” the succubus dismissed his taunt.

“Dumb smelly chort says what?” Lucifar spoke, turning around putting his arms behind his head.

“Do  _ not _ go there, boy…” the succubus growled, standing from her throne making her chains rattle.

“What’s that? Can’t hear you over your stinky grunting, chort mouth…” Lucifar whistled, walking toward the door.

“You have exactly ten seconds to apologize…” she snarled.

Lucifar knew this was an extremely dumb move. Succubi and Incubi  _ hate it _ when people either point out their relation to chorts or flat out call them one. For some reason it overrides any rationality they have, making people suspect it is their #1 pet peeve. He needed to secure some kind of chaotic way out though. With how the passages are, he could probably lose her so she goes on a rampage looking for him.

“Who needs ten seconds to call someone what they are? A big, dumb, smelly, overweight chort!” Lucifar taunted, and the way her eyes dilated and her nose snorted told him she snapped.

With a single tug her chains then tore themselves out of the wall like a child bites into candy. Lucifar barely had enough time to leap to the side causing her to shoulder tackle the door right off its hinges, causing the succubus to tumble and crash into a stack of crates. The lad then rushed out and began to book it as she stood, snarling furiously.

“You wait until I get my hands on you!” she screamed, charging after him.

Lucifar didn’t stop running even when guards popped out and began to panic as well. Any guard unfortunate enough to be caught in the succubus’s path was slammed against the wall with a single arm, shattering their ribs or damaging their spine. Lucifar knocked crates, barrels, kegs, boxes, and racks over to try and buy himself some extra time - but she was plowing through it like a stallion after a mare in heat. Any guards that tried to stop her received vicious haymakers to the face that either knocked them out or busted their neck entirely. He got behind a corner sooner than her and ducked into an open door to hide. Her rampage seemed to pass by and he let out a sigh of relief. Her horns then pierced the wall perfectly fitting his head between them and he ran for the window. There was ivy on the outside wall allowing him to shimmy to the other room as she smashed through the wall roaring furiously.

Once back inside he booked it again, the succubus ramming through wall after wall chasing him. Countless guards went down as the chase continued up to the roof of the wall. Instead of hunting him up there, she began smashing through the floor itself to try and make him fall into her grasp. Running the opposite way he spotted Geralt - running from a horde of Drowned.

“Dad!” he screamed, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

“Lucifar…?” Geralt gasped, looking around seemingly unable to see him as he ran.

The boy jumped trying to land on Geralt, but he passed right through. The horde went through him too. He completely forgot that he was phased! Geralt could still hear him though. That gave him an idea.

“Find the Demon’s Gaze!” Lucifar screamed as he kept running.

“Demon’s Gaze…? The missing link!” Geralt scowled, leaping into the crumbling wall.

A problem was quickly creeping up on Lucifar. He was running out of wall. He didn’t have a choice but to take his chances with a leap of faith. He was approaching the piers so he had a 50/50 shot at landing in the water, safety compared to hard pavement. His moment soon came and he closed his eyes as he leapt into the air, the succubus bursting from the building to give chase. Lucifar hit the water hard as the succubus landed on the ground, rolling out of the fall to her feet. She scanned the water, but seemed unable to find him. Somehow, some way, he’d managed to lose her.

“Come out and face me, boy! You can’t hide! No one can save you while we’re phased!” she screamed, stomping her hooves in frustration.

Hiding cleverly under the wooden part of the piers, Lucifar was taking great care to make as little noise as possible while swimming. His legs stung incredibly from the landing, but his adrenaline was allowing him to keep going. Whenever she’d get close he’d sidle along the concrete of the main piers and inch himself along, praying she’d give up eventually. Soon he reached a boat ramp and slowly crawled out of the water, staying on his belly to make sure the water dripping didn't give him away. Whenever she turned her back he’d quickly and quietly crawl to another hiding spot. It had his heart pounding, but he eventually managed to give her the slip and escape into Novigrad proper. There were people all over the place enjoying the festival. He spotted the Chameleon and made a break for it. People were spooked by the door suddenly opening and closing along with the patter of soaked footsteps going upstairs. In Geralt’s room Lucifar found his swords along with Phoebe and Ava’s cages, still sitting on the desk where he’d left them.

“Please, please, please let me grab them…” Lucifar whimpered, reaching for his blades.

Lucifar’s marks began to light up as he reached, and he didn’t phase through them. He was able to grab them and put them on! He was able to retrieve Phoebe and Ava too! Feeling safer now, he carefully snuck out the back door of the tavern. When he got back to the plaza he heard a gun cock.

“Freeze.” the red-haired woman ordered, aiming a revolver at him causing the lad to do just that putting his hands up.

“Uh-oh…”

“Uh-oh doesn’t even begin to explain the hell you put me through. Countless assets lost because that damn succubus went on a rampage! Good men slaughtered chasing you! Do you have any idea just how much I wish I could kill you right now?!” she roared furiously.

“Shibalba!” the succubus’s voice roared seconds before she rammed the woman’s gut sending her flying into a fruit stand startling the people there.

“Double uh-oh…” Lucifar swallowed nervously, drawing his swords.

“You are going to  _ die _ , kid!” she screamed, charging when a gunshot went off making her trip falling at his feet.

Pulling herself up there was a bleeding bullet wound in her thigh. Shibalba, bleeding from the lip, had already gotten up! The succubus scowled getting to her feet. She began to charge despite her wounded leg and Shibalba unloaded three rounds into her gut making her stumble and cough up blood.

“Silver bullets. No black hand in their right mind would husband monsters without having some on hand. Your muscles being tough as steel matters little when they’re involved.” Shibalba snickered.

Shibalba unloaded the rest of her cylinder into the succubus making her stumble back and fall over gasping for air. She’d hit both of her lungs at least twice. Lucifar rushed to her, concern overtaking his fear.

“Damn… it…” she coughed, spurting more blood from her mouth.

“Come away from her, boy. I can always get a new succubus with your help.” Shibalba ordered.

“I can save you… but I need you to let me tame you…” Lucifar told the succubus, his eyes starting to turn purple as his pupils became slit like a snake.

“My life is over… and you would prolong it with slavery…?” she asked.

“Not slavery. As my friend.” Lucifar answered.

“Fine… I’ll humor you… at least once…” she smiled as the light in her eyes began to fade.

He removed his gloves and touched her, but unlike Phoebe and Ava’s cages hers was red and green. Shibalba was amazed, and then began to laugh. Lucifar stood up and glared at her.

“You really tamed a dying monster? What possible use could that have? Talk about wasting your talent!” Shibalba berated him.

“Tell that to Maria.” Lucifar growled, opening the door.

When the succubus reemerged, her skin was still pale… but her black fur was now red and her hair had become neon green. Her skin now had glowing red markings on it. Her body was devoid of injury making Shibalba take a step back. Lucifar pointed at her and the succubus, now christened Maria, began to charge her. In a hurry she started backup trying to reload, but wound up dropping her bullets. Maria then slammed her arm into Shibalba sending the woman flying through the air smashing into a cart of apples.

Several of Shibalba’s guards then rushed in only to get thrashed around with ease by the succubus. One managed to strike her with their blade, but it stopped cold on her skin.

“This is a silver blade…”

“Tough luck.” Maria grinned before punching him out.

More guards showed up only to get pummeled by Maria. A very loud shattering sound akin to glass made everyone stop in their tracks. All of a sudden everyone then lost their sense of balance, as if the earth itself were shaking. Novigrad guards then suddenly materialized and cut Shibalba’s guards down. They gave chase to those that tried to flee, swiftly capturing them. Lucifar looked very relieved, noticing that now everyone was looking at the fighting circle that’d formed from Maria’s beatdown. He calmly returned her to her cage as Shibalba stood from the stall holding her ribs as she coughed a bit of blood. She aimed her revolver, fury in her eye, but she didn’t get to fire as Geralt delivered a flying haymaker to her jaw knocking her out cold.

“Don’t ever aim a gun at my boy.” Geralt huffed, cracking his knuckles.

-PERSPECTIVE A END-

>Next Chapter: Perspective B, Geralt


End file.
